"Oh, there isn't any life up there yet."
"If no one's living up there why does anyone want to go there?"
"Well, maybe there'll be too many people on earth someday and then we'll have to find other planets with more room."
Another monstrous brass band was going by. The boy became restless. He began to toy with his ray gun, half interested in seeing if there were any sparks left in it. "Why can't there be something besides so many bands in a parade? I wanna see another float."
The father tried to interest the boy by pointing out all the famous people who were also there: a variety of statesmen the world's leading scientists and religious and cultural leaders, the president of the United States.
The boy was interested but not in what his elder was saying to him. He was looking downtown, his eyes squinting, trying to make out figures as far away as Fifty-sixth Street. Then his mouth opened, not uttering a sound yet, just waiting to burst with joy at what was coming toward them.
His father looked up at him. "I wish you'd tell me what you are looking at. I'm all the way down here on street level, remember?"
"Daddy, they look like ants!"
"What?"